


Forget Me Not

by Darwig3



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Consent Issues, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 17:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10746438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darwig3/pseuds/Darwig3





	Forget Me Not

“To be able to forget means sanity,” Baz whispers the spell in the quiet space between them. The room is dark and cold (Snow and his bloody window) but he’s buzzing with heat. He can feel the fire flickering in the center of his palm. It’s not a well known spell, and Baz is pretty sure it’s a little illegal, but like it says, it’s the only thing that’s allowed him to stay sane for the past five years. The only thing that’s allowed him to carry on. It’s a weak spell, but he’s used it enough that he’s felt it getting stronger over the years. 

When he’d walked (limped) in earlier and had seen Snow again he’d almost gone and done it right there in the dining hall, in the middle of breakfast, in front of everyone. He would have too if he knew that the spell was strong enough to make all of those people forget. And though he had definitely beefed it up from overuse, it was still no where near strong enough for that. 

He’d had to wait the whole torturous day. When he got back to their room Snow was in the shower. He began unpacking to pass the time, too nervous to relax. His brain too preoccupied with Snow, Snow, Snow to even think of starting on the pile of makeup work he had to do. 

When Snow finally exited the bathroom, Baz barely took a moment to notice he was just in his flannels bottoms, leaving his pale chest on display. Normally he’d take a few moments to appreciate it. He’d make patterns out of his moles, maybe he’d even take the time to drag Simon in slowly by the towel around his neck. But he’d been locked in a coffin for two bloody months, by fucking numpties no less. And the only thing that kept him going was the promise that once he got out he’d be able to kiss Simon Snow again.

So that’s exactly what he did. He’d basically run over to him. The force was enough to knock Simon onto his bed, but Baz remained standing. Neck craning, his lips never leaving the chosen one’s. He kissed him, and for a few moments Snow had gone with it. Baz always stopped whenever Snow started to push him back. This time, for a split second, with his lips firmly pushed against Simon’s, he thought maybe this time he wouldn’t have to stop. Maybe Snow wanted this too? 

But the hope only lasted as long as it took for Snow to push a hand to the middle of Baz’ chest, successfully breaking them apart. 

“What the fuck was that, Baz?” 

With the amount of times Baz had heard those words, or similar ones, directed at him, they shouldn’t have hurt so much. But when they fell from the same lips he’d been kissing just seconds prior, and were accompanied by a look of disgust, he really couldn’t help but feel like utter shit. Baz didn’t take a moment to hear what else Snow had to say. He pulled his wand out and pointed it at the golden haired boy. 

“To be able to –“ 

“Are you spelling me right now?” 

“forget means sanity.” He lowers his wand but keeps it out incase he has to have another go of the spell. He should probably not be hovering over Snow when he opens his eyes but he can’t get his legs to move. It’s been so long. Nearly half a year since he’s seen or kissed this boy. He finds that he just can’t stop himself from staring. Hopefully when Snow’s eyes open he’ll assume Baz is plotting like always and let it slide. 

Sure enough, when Simon’s eyes slide open, blinking a few times as though he’s waking up from a nap, they focus on where Baz looms over him. 

“What the hell Baz? Are you plotting? What’s your problem?” 

“You, always you.” He says, his mind finally releasing his body, he stalks to his bed and finishes unpacking. 

…

“He had his wand out, Penny,” Simon says around a bite of sour cherry scone at breakfast the next morning, “one second he was at his bed unpacking and the next he was standing over me. I have no clue how I even got to my bed. The last thing I remember is getting out of the shower.” 

“But memory spells are illegal! Baz has to know that. Plus, what did he do to you that he’d have to erase? It’s not like you don’t already know he’s an evil vampire.”

“Exactly why I’m worried here, Pen! I bet this isn’t even the first time this has happened either!” 

“Well did you try an ‘as you were’?” 

“I’d rather not set fire to Mummers, Penny. Can you try?” 

“Well, it’s probably too late now, but I’ll give it a go.” Penny points her ring at him and says “as you were,” but this time it’s magickal. Simon can feel the magic, but it doesn’t do anything. He sighs dejectedly, and it’s enough for Penny to know that it hadn’t worked. He takes another bite of his scone. His eyes begin to scan the dining hall for long black hair and a posh, arrogant face. Baz must have skipped breakfast this morning, which is not unusual for him but it still pisses Simon off. It’s only his second day back and he’s already probably sneaking about, plotting. 

“Let’s try – ‘it’s show time’.” 

“Still nothing, Penny. I think it’s been too long.”

“One more,” she says, pointing her ring right at Simon’s temple, “Scooby-Dooby-Doo where are you?” 

“Nada,” he says, shaking his head. 

Penny sighs at him from across the table, “I think you should confront him about it.” 

“Are you kidding? And give him even more reason to want to kill me?” 

“He’s messing with you, Simon, you could probably even have him expelled for tampering with your memory.” 

“Yeah, but the Mage would have to actually be here to do anything about it, which is not likely.”

If Simon were being honest, even if the Mage were here he probably wouldn’t turn Baz in for this. If Baz was expelled he’d probably never find out if Baz was really a vampire, and the past few years would have been a complete waste. Now that he knows something is up it shouldn’t be that hard to spot the next time Baz does it. Next time he’ll be ready. 

…

Next time happens to be that night. Baz is reading in bed, something he only ever does when he can’t fall asleep. Simon is splayed out on his own bed, one arm thrown above him. His shirt is pulled up, leaving an inch or so of bare skin that Baz can see out of the corner of his eye. He tries, he tries really hard to keep his eyes on his book, but the lines are dancing and he can no longer get the words to make sense. Baz closes his book. He rises from his bed, his eyes unable to leave the pale ribbon of skin. He stalks over to Snow; his roommate, his mortal enemy, his love. Snow’s eyes are closed. Baz hovers his hand over the exposed skin of his stomach. He can feel Simon’s heat. His magic. It’s scalding. No wonder he sleeps with the window open. How does such a small boy hold all of that energy? The answer is, of course, that he doesn’t. Not really. He can only hold it for so long until it builds up too much. Baz has seen him go off so many times. Baz can’t imagine it will be long until the next time with all this energy he’s just barely holding in. 

Snow’s nearly asleep, just on the cusp. But apparently not sleepy enough to miss the fact that there’s a vampire looming over him. 

“I know about your spell, Baz. Your illegal memory spell.” His eyes blink open, but he makes no moves to get up. He must trust Baz enough not to hurt him. The thought sends a warm tingle down Baz’ spine and pulls at the corners of his lips. 

“And what do you plan on doing with that information? You can hardly use ‘open sesame’ without burning down half of campus.”  
“Penny knows too. We’ll figure out what you’re up to, it’s only a matter of time now that we know about it.”

“Highly unlikely,” Baz says, crowding into him closer. He can feel Simon’s breath against his own lips picking up. His cheeks go red. “I’ve been using this spell on you for years, you’ve never even noticed before. I made a minor mistake last time, it won’t happen again.” He snarls. 

“Baz Pitch made a mistake? Wherever you were for the past two months must have been hell in order for you to make a mistake.” Simon’s eyes are blown. He’s nervous. He must think I’m gonna bite him, Baz thinks. 

“It was,” he breathes out, “it was hell not being able to see you… to do this.” Baz closes the space between them, his hand grips into the fabric of Snow’s shirt in order to steady himself. He takes his time, knowing that this one will be the last for a little while. Because while he does doubt that Snow could figure it out without burning something down, he has the utmost faith that Bunce could have his spell cracked within the hour. 

He takes a moment to take in Snow’s state of shock when he pulls back, just enough for his face to come into focus. Baz loves the new tint of red to his lips, and the way he’s blinking up at him, brows furrowed. 

“Is that all?” Snow asks. And Baz has the sneaking suspicion that this revelation is actually rather disappointing to him. “You… you kiss me?” 

“That’s all.” Baz’ voice is steady, which is surprising even to him. He stands up straight, moves over to his night stand to retrieve his wand. He rolls the tip between his thumb and forefinger. 

“You- you’re not plotting? Or biting me?” He asks, pushing himself up onto his elbows. 

“Well I did bite your lip once, but I assure you, it was purely accidental.” 

“So-so you what? Have some sort of crush on me?” 

Baz has to laugh, it comes out of his nose and sounds meaner than he intends. “A crush,” he shakes his head, his hand coming up to push back the hair that falls in his face. “A bloody crush.” He may as well tell him. It’s not like he’s going to let him remember this anyway. “I bloody love you, Simon. I have since third year.” 

“But you hate me.” 

“Never,” Baz says, and the intensity in his eyes lets Simon know that he means it, scarily enough. 

“But you pushed me down the bloody stairs!” 

“Actually,” Baz’ face relaxes a bit, his tone goes humorous, “I kissed you down the stairs. That was actually the first time I’d used the spell. Thankfully you were passed out long enough, I was able to figure out what the hell I was going to do.”

“Y-you.”

“Say what you must, I have to do the spell soon. It only erases five minutes.”

When Snow speaks again his voice is soft, thoughtful even. He looks up at Baz, his forehead still scrunched, his mouth open just slightly. Baz wants to kiss him again. 

“You called me ‘Simon’.” He says finally. 

“Yes, excellent observation Snow,” Baz says rolling his eyes. 

“You’ve never called me Simon before,” he’s suddenly off the bed and moving into Baz’ space. 

“Well I have, you just don’t remember it,” Baz retorts. He shouldn’t feel powerful, but he does. He shouldn’t be happy with himself, but he is. Because Simon bloody Snow looks jealous.

“That’s not fair Tyrannus!”

“You think this is fair for me?” Baz questions, his voice rising several decibels. “You think this has been a fun game I’ve been playing? You think it’s fun seeing the look of disgust on your face when I kiss you? It kills me, Simon. But sometimes I can’t help it. Maybe I’m a masochist, I don’t know, but the one thing I know for sure is that I love you. That’s all I can offer you Simon. The only explanation I have.”

“But why not let me choose? Why not ask me?” He’s nearly standing on Baz’ toes he’s so close. Baz can feel the fire under Snow’s skin building. It’s coming off of him in strong, steady waves. 

“You’ve always made your intentions with me clear, Snow. You’re the Chosen One and I’m your mortal enemy. Our story is always going to end in fire, and I’m highly flammable.” 

“Well I wouldn’t have to kill you if you weren’t really my enemy, would I?” 

Simon Snow is jealous of the part of himself that he can’t remember. The part of himself that Baz has kissed, and touched, and loved. The part that Baz had erased before he even knew what hit him. 

At that moment he wants more than anything to go back. Back to third year when he’d discovered the feelings he’d had for Snow. Back to fourth year, the first time he’d kissed him at the top of the stairs. He wants to go back to each and every time he’s kissed this boy that he loves so, so much. He wants to go back and give this boy the choice he’s neglected him all these years. The choice to remember. Baz thinks Simon’s choice may surprise him. He hopes it would. 

“Would you have believed me?” Baz questions, “or would you have thought I was plotting?” 

“I don’t know Baz! I don’t know ‘cause you never let me think about it long enough!” 

Baz takes a step backwards. Brings his wand up, pushing it into Snow’s temple. “Think about it now,” his voice is shaking. Snow is shaking. Maybe all of Watford is shaking, it’s hard to tell. “You only have about thirty seconds. Make a choice, Simon.” 

His hands are steady when they come up to grip the back of Baz’ neck. His blue eyes clear when they meet Baz’ grey ones. Baz feels what little blood he currently has in his body rush to his checks. He probably shouldn’t be able to blush right now, but if one thing is for certain, it’s that Simon Snow makes the impossible possible. Baz is the most anxious he’s even been. If snow chooses to forget, well, at least Baz will finally know what Simon’s feeling are for him. But if he remembers… if he remembers then he’ll have everything he needs to destroy him. He can feel Simon’s breath hitch, can feel his heart pick up speed as his mouth flounders open and he finally says the words Baz never knew he needed to hear, “I choose you,” before he’s pulling Baz down to connect their lips. “I choose to remember.” He mumbles against Baz’ lips. 

“Simon,” Baz sighs.

“Please, Baz, I want to remember it all.”

The taller boy pulls back, gripping the golden haired boy’s shoulders. He searches his eyes for any doubt but finds none. Baz nods, “ok,” he says. He collects his wand, which he’d dropped at some point. “Bring back what once was mine,” he says, pushing all of his magic into the wand. The spell needs to be powerful in order to reach back all those years, but Baz thinks that since they share the memories that the spell should work. Baz can tell as soon as it hits Simon. His eyes fall shut and begin to move rapidly under his lids. It’s over within a matter of seconds, but Baz is sure it takes a few years off of his (immortal?) life. There’s really no going back now, he thinks. Snow knows everything he’s ever hidden from him. All the kisses. All the times when he’d let his feelings slip out. All the times he was caught staring just a little too long, with a little too much hunger behind his eyes. It’s all there, back in Simon’s mind where it belongs. When Simon’s eyes open he doesn’t waste a second. He’s back onto Baz with a hunger that hadn’t been there just a minute ago. 

They fall asleep that night in Simon’s bed. Baz sleeps well, surrounded by Simon’s fiery scent, and Simon’s curls tickling his chin. He doesn’t want to open his eyes when he wakes up. He can tell it’s light out, probably time to start getting ready but it’s the last thing he wants to do. He wants to lie here with Snow for the rest of his days, however many that be. He almost convinces Snow to skip breakfast, just to have an extra hour to laze around in bed. But Snow’s grumbling stomach kills the mood. Baz smiles at him even though he’s ruined his brilliant plan, just because he can. Because Simon Snow slept in his arms. Because he kissed Simon Snow and this time he didn’t look at Baz like he had cooties. Because he loves Simon Snow, and Simon Snow, at the least, likes him back. 

…

Penny is already in the dining hall when they get down to breakfast. Baz nearly breaks out into hysterics when he sees the face she’s pulling. Simon elbows him playfully, and smiles at him, shaking his head. 

“What are you doing with the vampire, Simon?” 

“Pen, you will never believe why Baz was spelling me,” he says, dropping on to the bench across from her. Baz sits down right beside him, only a few inches separating them. Penny just looks between the two of them, dumbfounded. 

“No, I don’t think I will believe it.” 

“Basilton, here, was kissing me.” He can’t contain the bright smile that spreads over his face as Penny sputters incoherence.

“Kissing you? Actually kissing you?” 

“He’s been totally in love with me since like third year-“

“Simon!” Baz objects. 

“No, no, Baz. My choice, remember? Not my fault you couldn’t keep it to yourself.” 

“But-“

“Actually kissing you?” Penny asks again, still clearly in a state of shock, “is the world coming to an end?” 

“No,” Simon says, turning to smile at Baz, “but it’s starting to make a lot more sense.”


End file.
